Growing Admiration
by keariel
Summary: Near never saw her as anything more than a friend; a beautiful, intelligent, admirable friend. But he's slowly realising that you don't usually admire how pretty your friends are. NearXOC K  fer kissin'. Maybe slighty OOC? You tell me *subtle hint*


**I don't own Death Note, okay? You understand? Not mine. If I did, I'd either bring L back to life somehow (in a way which didn't totally ruin the story), give Near a girlfriend, or sell it and buy Rozen Maiden. ;)**

**Enjoy lovelies! ~**

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><p>Fingertips lightly tapped the top of the circular table, the constant rhythm both annoying and, in a way, strangely comforting.<p>

He supposed it was because, despite the annoying way it would come and then stop, before starting again after a pause different to that previous, it meant that she was still sat there. The strange, blue eyed girl who stated that she hated everything, because everything hated her.

He flinched as she drummed her fingers over the table again, the softest sigh leaving her lips as she shifted position in her seat.

He paused in his typing for a moment, hopeful that this meant she would finally stop the constant drumming of her fingers on the table; but again it came, as constant and inevitable as the sun setting, and as irritating as the times when her little sister constantly poked him for some form of attention.

Luckily, the little red-head was out, doing something with some of her friends from the school she attended. But her sister remained; constantly drumming her fingers, gradually chipping away at his patience.

He turned slowly from his computer, icy eyes narrowed, waiting for her to notice his glare. When she did, however, she merely smiled briefly, her cheeks flushing an uncharacteristic pink, and returned her attention to the paper spread across the table before her, resuming the drumming of her fingers on the table.

For a moment, he allowed himself to admire the way her hair fell over her eyes, and the way the blond waves spread over her back; the way, although it only really reached two inches past her shoulders, the way when she swept it back over both her shoulders it made it look longer. Then, he remembered that he was in the middle of something important, and her incessant drumming was annoying him.

"Nakamura-san." His voice was soft, but icy; like a cold wind. She glanced up, and her eyes hardened at his stoic expression; well, if he was going to be emotionless and cold, so was she.

"Yes?" She asked shortly, arching an eyebrow. He sighed, a slight, subtle display of emotion, before composing himself.

"Could you please cease your tapping? It is distracting, and this is very important." The girl regarded him for a moment, an odd emotion flickering through her eyes; but then she got to her feet, approaching him.

"What are you doing exactly?" She asked softly; once again, refusing to say his name; or, well, the name he had given to himself. She had always declared that she hated his new name; even if he had changed enough for his old one not to ring true anymore.

He watched her warily, before gesturing at the monitor with one hand.

"I am trying to decipher L's notes. I cannot figure out the key word, and without it this will take forever." She nodded once, before scanning through the gibberish spread across the screen, a smile spreading across her lips.

"Did he give you a clue before he died?" She asked softly, the barest hint of amusement colouring her tone. He watched her, admiring the relaxed set of her shoulders, the way she favoured her right leg when she stood, the left bent at the knee, and the way she idly played with a strand of her hair as she spoke.

"All things must end this way; some welcome it, some go down kicking and screaming. But we all succumb, one way or another; and it is the only way you will step into your own." He quoted, remembering his last conversation with the detective word for word. Her smile widened a fraction, and with a few clicks of the mouse and the insertion of a five letter word, the gibberish was suddenly a clear, well written document, easily readable and thoroughly detailed.

He stared at her for a moment, pleasantly surprised. She looked back at him, the same odd blush from before colouring her cheeks.

"I am going to bed. I shall see you in the morning." He watched in silence as she gathered her pieces of paper, returning them to their folder, before he called her name as she had just left the room.

"Nakamura-san?" Her blue eyes appeared around the doorway, curious and strangely hopeful.

"Yes?" The barest smile spread across his features.

"Thank you." Crimson spread across her cheeks, and she was suddenly very unsure, flustered even, playing with her fingers as she stood in the doorway, eyes turned down.

He admired the way, even when acting like a typical teenage girl, she had an air of higher intelligence, of being _special_ that filled the air around her, and touched whoever observed her.

He also noted with interest that he'd been admiring things about her more and more these days.

She glanced up at him, a smile spreading across her lips.

"You're welcome." She murmured, before fleeing the room, obviously intending to go to bed.

He shook off her strange behaviour, ignoring the part of his mind which suggested what it all could mean, and turning his attention back to his old Sensei's notes.

If he was to prove the identity of Kira, he would need L's findings from before his death.

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><p>The door to his home was thrown open, and she strode in, her expression irate, eyes dark, slamming the door closed with a foot as she stomped into the kitchen, violently turning on the cold water and shoving her hand underneath.<p>

He sat in his armchair, hunched over as usual, his head tilted to the side in curiosity. Her sister was staying at a friends; they would not see the red-headed trouble maker until tomorrow. It was doubtful she had even seen the little girl today; so he could not understand why she was so irate.

"Nakamura-san?" He called, voice soft and only curious. She paused in her vigilant scrubbing of her hand, and turned to look at him over her shoulder, her eyes suddenly guilty. He got to his feet, bare skin silent on the wooden floor as he approached her. When he was stood beside her at the sink, he looked down at her bloody knuckles, slightly disappointed.

"Been fighting again?" He asked softly, his words more rhetorical than anything else; she looked away regardless, refusing to acknowledge that he hand spoken the truth, ignoring the fact that her refusal to speak was confirmation enough for him.

He sighed softly, gently taking her hand and sitting her in a chair at the kitchen table, before turning to the cupboards and searching for the first aid kit. As he rummaged through the various cupboards-_where had Mello put it when he last visited?_-he heard her softly muttering to herself; a strong, repeated chant which he could not quite make out.

When he finally found the first aid kit, stashed behind various cans of soup with several bars of chocolate-_Mello..._-he approached her cautiously, remembering the last time he'd tried to help her, and she'd shouted at him; as emotionless as he came across, he still disliked being shouted at by someone he'd known as a child.

She glanced at him wordlessly when he sat opposite her, holding out her injured hand and looking away as he obediently cleaned and bandaged it, confirming that she had not broken any fingers or dislocated anything.

He really didn't want to see the state of whoever had been on the receiving end of her fury, though.

"What happened?" He asked softly, after a moment of silence. She glanced at him, before looking away, her cheeks crimson.

"It was nothing." She mumbled. He frowned at her, tilting his head to the side.

"That is a lie." He said shortly, leaving no room for debate; it had to have been something of importance, for her to appear so embarrassed and guilty. She glared at him for a moment, before sighing and looking down at her bandaged hand.

"I was speaking with some of my friends, and one of their boyfriends...they said something unpleasant, so I hit him. I don't think Hoshi-chan is going to want to be my friend anymore." He could barely hold in the snort of amused laughter he wished to release as he imagined the short girl punching a boy twice her size; he had seen Hoshi Ais' boyfriend, and he was a large young man.

"What did he say?" He asked, still confused about what he could have said to set the usually calm girl off. Her cheeks darkened to an even brighter shade of crimson, and she stared at the table, mumbling something.

"What?" He frowned, leaning forward in his seat slightly. She mumbled it again, and he leant forward even further, so they were only about an inch apart.

"I didn't quite catch that." He murmured, and she jumped, eyes widening when she noticed his closeness. Her eyes locked on his, and she swallowed visibly, cheeks darkening even more.

"H-he said something unpleasant. A-about...about you. He'd seen you letting Mello out of the door the other day, and formed an unjust opinion of you." Her hands tightened into fists, and she glared at the table.

"I should have hit him harder." She growled, the blush fading and her eyes darkening. He settled back into his seat vaguely amused.

"So you were defending me." He sated, nodding slightly to himself. Her head snapped up, and she watched him as he got up, idly playing with some of his hair.

"I am my own person, and old enough to defend my own reputation, but I thank you for your consideration, Nakamura-san." Her eyes narrowed, and she jumped to her feet, suddenly angry again.

"Why do you do that?" She cried, glaring at him. He frowned, unsure of what she meant. She let out a frustrated sigh, running her fingers through her hair.

"You're all conversational, and concerned, and almost like a friend, and then suddenly you're stoic and unemotional again! It pisses me off! Can't you just stick to one or the other? Stop-stop confusing me by being so damned nice one minute and so infuriating the next. You have no idea what it does to me." He watched her curiously, head tilted to the side. She was pretty when she was angry. Not that she wasn't usually; he had noticed that, even when she wasn't over emotional and shouting at him, she was generally a rather attractive young woman. But when she was angry, with her eyes as bright as they were at that moment, it was increased dramatically.

He wanted to see if it progressed as he pushed her further.

"Emotions are a weakness. I only display mine to you when the time is appropriate; and then, that is rarely." Her expression darkened, and he noticed, amused, that she looked rather...well..._cute_ when she glared at him like that.

He was having odd thoughts today. He didn't usually see her this way, did he?

Well, yes, actually he did. As he thought about it, ignoring the way her anger was increasing with his distant attitude and expression, he had always found her attractive. Perhaps not when they had been children; then, he had merely wished to escape her, because she was a girl, and girls were disgusting and not to be associated with. But ever since they had been reacquainted, he had realised that she was quite pretty indeed; in fact, she could be called beautiful.

This revelation both scared and elated him.

Scared him, because this attraction he felt for her was stronger than the usual emotions he had to repress, and he was not sure he could keep it hidden.

Elated him, because the realisation of his feelings for her felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He could finally admit it to himself.

_I like her. As more that a friend. I like Lisa Nakamura, my friend since I was a child, as more than a friend._

Just as he reached this epiphany, Lisa approached him, forcing him against the wall with her proximity, glaring up at him with her beautiful blue eyes, her beautiful blonde hair framing her face and her lips down-turned in a frown.

He noted with interest that he was suddenly finding everything about her beautiful.

And that he wanted to make her smile again; though perhaps not when she was invading his personal space and looking so threatening.

"Lisa..." He murmured, using her name for the first time in who knew how long. Her anger faded at his use of her name, and her eyes widened slightly as her cupped her cheek with one hand, while the other moved round to gently hold the back of her neck. Her eyes flickered from his eyes, to his lips, back to his eyes, the faintest glimmer of hope in them.

It was enough to give him one final push.

He leant forward ever so slightly, lips meeting hers in a soft, questioning kiss; a question which was answered when she wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers diving into his hair. He let the constantly calculating and noting part of his mind slip into a content silence; this was what he wanted, what he _needed_, and he wasn't going to let his over-thinking, always second-thinking nature get in the way. All that mattered was the beautiful girl smiling against his lips, pulling herself as close as possible, gently probing his lips with her tongue for entry.

He obliged willingly, of course.

They must have stood together like that for a good minute and a half before he pulled away for air; he didn't have the lungs of a singer, like she did, and the new waves of emotions rolling over his consciousness were both shocking and exhilarating at the same time. He placed soft butterfly kisses along her jaw, down the side of her neck, over her collar bone, grinning at the giggles which burst from her lips.

"You'd never think this is all new to you." She mumbled, resting her face in the crook of his neck. He smiled against her skin, kissing the sensitive spot below her ear and revelling in her soft gasp and the way her arms, now around his waist, tightened.

"I could say the same to you." He pulled back to rest his forehead against hers, blue eyes meeting hazel.

"Is this the me you'd like me to stick to?" He asked softly, a slight smile spreading across his lips.

"Or would you like the emotionless one back?" She grinned up at him, stretching up on her tiptoes to press her lips to his.

"This one, Near. I like this one very much." His smile widened when she said his name; and then he was drowning in thoughts of the smell of her skin, and the sensation of her lips against his.

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><p><strong>So...yeah. This is...different? Yeah, I guess you could say that. I've never really written a death note fan fiction before, so this is a little new for me.<strong>

**I'd like to say, writing Near's character is bloody hard. I mean, it got easier as this progressed; not only did I get used to making him all emotionless and calculating, but towards the end I actually added a little emotion into his character. But I usually write about bouncy, insane people who often have minor mental break downs and start crying for no particular reason. So...yeah.**

**I say so yeah far too much.**

**Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this? It's probably quite OOC...although, I guess I can blame that on Lisa.**

**Love does crazy thinks to people; even the ever emotionless but still pretty damn awesome Near, A.K.A Nate Rivers. ;) Little spoiler-but-not-really there for you peoples.**

**So, review! Did you love it? Hate it? Did it make you fall in love with Near just a little bit? Cause it did for me, and I'm the author. :P**

**Just push that little blue button...go on. You know you want to!**

**P.S Oh! And did you figure out it was Near before the end? Cause, I mean, I know he's the character I selected, but if I hadn't would you have guessed? And did you figure out what the keyword was? You'll get a cookie if you got it right! You know how you can tell me? That's right! Give a cookie to that guy in the back, in the red shirt! You can tell me in a _review_.**

**...Gosh I'm pushy.**

**Sorry. ^^;**


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